


A Date to Misremember

by HaMandCheezIts



Category: Back to the Future (Movies)
Genre: 1992, Boot Hill Cemetery, Canon Temporary Character Death, Clayton Ravine, College, Drabble, Eastwood Ravine, Elementary School, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Gen, Labor Day, Librarians, Marriage, Movie: Back to the Future Part III, Music, One Shot, Post-Canon, Shonash Ravine, Steam train wreck, Teaching, hoverboard, newlyweds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 06:14:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26348431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaMandCheezIts/pseuds/HaMandCheezIts
Summary: Over the course of their time travels, there are many dates significant to Emmett Brown and Marty McFly - some triumphant, some tragic. This one date is both . . . and Doc and Marty would rather forget its negative connotations.
Relationships: Emmett "Doc" Brown & Marty McFly, Emmett "Doc" Brown/Clara Clayton, Marty McFly/Jennifer Parker
Comments: 11
Kudos: 18





	A Date to Misremember

**Author's Note:**

> I've been feeling a little of a creative burst lately. 
> 
> When I realized that today, Monday, September 7th, was the same date (weekday and number day of the month) as is in _Back to the Future III,_ I wanted to write a short fic commemorating it.
> 
> 1992 is not the "first" Monday, September 7th since Marty came back from 1885 - that would have been in 1987 - but I figured 1992 would be the first year that both Marty and Doc would be together in the present on this date. (I've come to that [personal] conclusion from the movies; this story does not have any input from BTTF: The Game [in that timeline, it's indicated that Doc is now living at least partially in present-day 1986, since Doc tells Marty that he and Clara maintain a part-time residence in the present]. So, as the events from The Game did not occur in this fic, the Marty and Doc in this fic obviously never had any time travel to the 1930's.) 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** I do not own _Back to the Future,_ Doctor Emmett L. Brown, Clara Clayton Brown, Marty McFly, Jennifer Parker McFly, or any other related characters. 
> 
> I am writing for fun and feedback, not for profit.
> 
> -ck

**Monday, September 7th, 1992**

**8:47 A.M.**

**Hill Valley, California**

When Jennifer Parker McFly finally woke around 8:45 a.m. and rolled over to see her husband’s side of the bed was empty, she initially forgot what day it was and thought that Marty had left for school and had forgotten to kiss her goodbye. Although that rarely occurred, unless they were in the middle of an argument, and even then he would usually declare a quick truce so he could peck her on the cheek. While most would infer that Marty's attentiveness toward his wife was due to the couple's newlywed status (they had been married just over a year), Jennifer knew the real reason for his behavior: Marty was frequently worried that something terrible might happen while they were apart, and so feared that any parting, no matter how brief, could become permanent. Marty's uneasiness was rooted in the fact that he had been unexpectedly separated from Jennifer – more than once – by time travel. It was difficult for her to understand her husband’s anxiety sometimes, but she also hadn’t seen the extreme things that he had while traveling through time. So while Jennifer didn’t share Marty’s morbid obsession, she also didn’t want to discount it.

It only took a few moments, in which Jennifer could hear noises in the downstairs office, for her to remember that Marty was home; it was Labor Day, and school was closed. He hadn't needed to go in to the elementary school, where he was newly employed as an adaptive music teacher. It appeared her husband had risen early anyway, which actually wasn't unusual - Marty now had the previously unattainable habit of awakening early, having become used to it during his student teaching stint the previous year. He also tended to leave their bed surreptitiously, so that his wife could sleep in while he took a shower and got ready for work; Marty typically needed to be at school before Jennifer headed to Hill Valley Community College, where she worked as an assistant librarian. Today, though, Jennifer had the day off from her job as well.

Jennifer padded downstairs in her nightshirt and bare feet, and found Marty McFly sitting in front of the desktop computer but not paying attention to the screen; instead he was staring unseeingly out the window, seemingly in deep thought. As Marty’s back was to Jennifer, he didn’t see or even seem to hear her approach. So when Jennifer bent over the office chair, draping her arms over Marty in a hug and kissing him on the cheek, he jumped in shock and nearly fell out of the chair, threatening to topple them both.

“Jesus, Jenn!” he gasped, as he righted himself. “Don’t do that!”

Jennifer backed up, somewhat offended. “Sor-ry. What’s wrong, morning breath? Fine, I’ll go brush my teeth."

“No – come on, Jennifer.” Marty swiveled the chair around to face his wife, and he beckoned to her. “I’m sorry. You just startled me. I – was thinking about something.”

Jennifer advanced slowly, then with a little sigh of feigned irritation, she sat herself in Marty’s lap. After Marty gave her an apologetic kiss, Jennifer nestled against him. “What are you doing in here? I hope you’re not working.”

He shrugged, half-smiling. “Kind of. I was going to try putting some of those lyrics I’ve been working on in the word processing program, see if that could keep me more organized.” The desk that held the IBM computer was a mess of lesson plans, worksheets, newspaper clippings, and notebooks, somewhat resembling Doctor Brown’s old lab/house/garage, but on a much smaller scale. “I was waiting for the computer to fire up, and I noticed the calendar hadn’t been changed.” He gestured at the page-a-day calendar resting near the phone, both items partially obscured by the clutter. “When I changed the page, I saw what day it was.”

Jennifer craned her neck up to glance at the date. “September 7th. So?”

 _“Monday_ , September 7th.”

Jennifer tilted her head and frowned, still confused.

Marty sighed deeply. “Doc was supposed to die on Monday, September 7th.” When Jennifer’s eyes widened in alarm, he quickly added, “In 1885. Mad Dog - uh, _Buford_ Tannen shot him."”

"You told me Buford Tannen shot _you_ ," Jennifer accused her husband. 

"Well, he tried. . ." Marty grinned faintly, then looked slightly alarmed. "Huh. That would've been the same day," he murmured. 

"What?"

Marty quickly shook his head. "Nothing." His grin returned. "Tannen just _thought_ he shot me. And then when he came to gloat over my 'body,' I kicked the gun out of his hand and slammed him in the face with the stove door I had used as a bullet-proof vest."

"Yes, you've told me that, too, many times." Jennifer rolled her eyes, sighing in exasperation. "What were you saying about _Doc_ getting shot? 

"Oh! Uh - Mad Dog shot Doc, the first time around - before I went back to 1885," Marty explained. "Buford thought Doc had shoed his horse wrong and had cheated him, which would have been impossible because the guy never paid Doc in the first place . . . but Buford still killed him over it." 

Jennifer's eyes widened as she remembered. “Right. That’s why the 1955 Doc helped send you back to 1885. To stop that from happening. So Doc _didn't_ die.”

Marty shook his head again. “No, he didn’t . . . and yet he did. In some alternate timeline he did, one where I wasn’t there to save him. That’s the way Doc explained it to me. He said that’s how we can remember it happened - you know, remember the tombstone? Because if I saved him from getting shot in 1885, there wouldn’t have been a tombstone for us to see in 1955. . .” He sighed again. “I don’t understand it exactly. I just know he was supposed to die, and be buried in Boot Hill Cemetery.”

“That’s terrible – but it _didn’t_ happen. Doc’s alive. He and Clara and the boys are all fine. We just saw them on Saturday.” Jennifer snuggled against Marty’s chest again.

“Yeah.” Marty rested his head on top of Jennifer’s, and gazed at the phone.

“I think it’s time those boys got up,” Clara Clayton Brown declared, looking up from the sink to regard the kitchen’s collection of clocks. “It’s almost nine.”

“Hmm?” Emmett Brown was sitting at the breakfast bar, a forgotten cup of coffee cooling in front of him. He was looking pensively at the calendar planner for September that was affixed to the refrigerator. It was one with large boxes for each day, so that special events could be written next to their respective dates. On Wednesday the 2nd it said “J & V to dentist.” Friday the 4th was “Einie to vet.” The box for Saturday the 5th read “M & J for dinner.” There was nothing written in the box for Monday the 7th, other than the small print which proclaimed it "Labor Day."

“The boys,” Clara repeated. “They’re apt to become lazybones, sleeping in as much as they have these last three days. It will be very difficult for them to rise on time for school tomorrow.”

Emmett lifted a hand in a marginal wave. “Ah, let’s just enjoy the quiet while we can.”

Clara, hearing the strangely flat tone emanating from her generally animated husband, looked over in concern. “Emmett? Are you quite all right? You’ve been oddly subdued this morning.”

“Hmm?” he said again. “Oh. Yes, yes, I’m fine.”

Clara huffed softly, then moved over to Emmett’s side of the breakfast bar. She wrapped an arm around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. “What's wrong, dear?”

Emmett grunted in mild amusement. “I’ve never been able to keep much from you, have I?” When Clara didn’t respond, only tightening her arm around her husband, he inhaled, then let out a long breath. “The date. You do know what today is?”

Clara pulled back, turning her head to beam up at him. “Emmett, of course I know the date. September 7th is a somewhat important date to us, wouldn’t you say? It’s not every day that a time-traveling gentleman on some kind of futuristic flying device whisks you off of a disaster-bound steam train and saves your life.”

"I'm sorry, that was a silly question." Emmett grinned, ducking his head. “But before those events occurred, before Marty even traveled back to 1885 and helped put all of that into motion. . ." His grin had now faded. "There was a timeline when I died on Monday, September 7th.”

Clara loosened her embrace, looking sadly at the scientist’s grim expression. “I’d forgotten you told me that.” Then she frowned. “No, that’s not quite true. I do my best to not think of that possibility.”

“As do I. But the fact that today, September 7th, is also a Monday. . . Well, that 'possibility' has been weighing on me more than usual.”

Clara gazed at her husband in compassion and empathy; she had "died" in another timeline herself, although she only knew of that through hearsay, and had never experienced the horror of seeing her own tombstone. “I don’t quite understand how you and Marty even have knowledge of the timeline with your . . . demise, but I do appreciate how this specific date has painful feelings for you." She hugged him again. "If there’s anything I can do to help – “

Clara’s offer was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. She moved to retrieve the nearby cordless handset, but just as she grasped it, Emmett spoke. “Just hand it to me, dear. I’ll speak to whoever it is, and you can wake up those slothful sons of ours.”

Clara turned the still-ringing handset over to Emmett; he took it with one hand, then held out his other hand for hers, squeezing it tightly and smiling warmly at her. Clara returned the smile with a bright one of her own, before leaving the kitchen to head down the hallway that led to the bedrooms.

Still smiling, Emmett pressed the “answer” button on the cordless phone. “Hello, Marty,” he said.

“Hi, Doc.”

**_END_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Just an FYI: Caller ID was not available in California until 1996. Doc had no idea who was calling him at 9:00 a.m. on Monday, September 7th . . . except, of course, he did.


End file.
